When twilight came on, Walter Perkins was more alarmed than ever.

There could be no doubt now that Ned Rector had missed his way. Stacy remained unmoved. He bedded down the mules. When he returned from this duty he carried something bright in one hand. Walter's eyes caught it at once.

"What have you there?" he demanded.

"Can of orange marmalade," replied Chunky, with a twinkle. "Guess it must have been dropped out when we unloaded the pack. Good thing there's only two of us to eat it."

CHAPTER XIII

WINNING THROUGH PLUCK

Tad Butler had left the camp at daybreak. He started off at a slow trot which he kept up over the rough, uneven ground until some time after sunrise, all the time keeping the mountain gorge in sight so that he might not lose his way.

He had eaten no breakfast, having simply taken a cup of sulphur water, believing that he could make better time on an empty stomach.

However, he now sat down and munched on one of the three hard boiled eggs he had taken with him.

"Guess it will be a good thing to rest for half an hour," he said to himself. This he did, by stretching flat on his back, after having finished his scanty breakfast.

Sharp on the half hour by his watch, Tad sprang up, greatly refreshed.

Leaning well forward he dropped into a long, easy lope, which carried him over the ground rapidly. Hard as nails and spurred on by the need of his companions, the lad pushed on and on, blazing his trail as he went, not feeling any fatigue to speak of. Now and then he would pause for a few moments to make sure that he was not straying from the river gorge, which occasional rocks and foliage hid from his view.

At noon Tad sat down and ate another egg.

"I must be getting near the place," he mused.

Still there was no trace of human habitation. There remained nothing for him to do save to push on, which he did stubbornly.

When the sun went down he seemed no nearer to the object of his search than when he had set out at daybreak. The lad, after looking about, came upon a tree which he climbed in order to get an un.o.bstructed view of the country. He argued that camp-fires would be lighted for the evening meal. Not a sign of smoke could he discover anywhere.

Tad's heart sank.

"I've got to stay out all night," he muttered. "If I were sure of finding some one in the morning I wouldn't mind."

There remaining about two hours before dark, he decided to push on as long as he could see. So he trotted on resolutely until the shadows fell so densely about his path that he could no longer find his way.

Tad reluctantly halted and after selecting a suitable place, gathered wood for a camp-fire. Water there was none, so he had to do without it while he ate his last egg.

Then he lay down to sleep, refusing to allow himself to think very long at a time of his lonely position.

Late that night, the boy awakened, finding the moon shining brightly.

He got up and looked about him. The camp-fire had died out. The light of the moon was so strong that he could make out the surroundings almost as well as in daylight.

"I may as well go on," he decided. "Perhaps I'll get somewhere in time for breakfast. If I don't I surely will have no breakfast, for I haven't a sc.r.a.p of food left."

So he trudged on. He did not run this time, for a little more care than he had been exercising was now necessary to avoid pitfalls in the shadows cast by rock and tree.

Daylight came, but still the weary boy kept on his way. Hungry? Yes, Tad was actually faint for want of food. He tried the experiment of chewing some leaves that he knew were harmless. At first this gave him some relief. After a little it made him sick, so he did not try the experiment again. He feared he was going to give out.

Toward eleven o'clock the boy came out upon a rise of ground overlooking a long slope. He rubbed his eyes almost unbelievingly.

Halfway down the slope was a shack and off beyond it stood a man with his back turned toward him.

Tad uttered a shout of joy and began leaping down the incline. The man down there, startled by the cry, wheeled suddenly and descrying the figure of Tad Butler racing toward him, ran to his cabin, appearing a moment later with a rifle in his hands.

A moment more a second man dashed out, he too carrying a gun. Both men stood facing the lad, until, when he got near enough, they discovered that it was a boy; then they laughed and lowered their weapons.

Tad fairly staggered up to them.

"Act as if ye'd seen a ghost, young feller. What's the excitement about?" demanded the first of the two men.

Tad explained as best he could between breaths, at which the men laughed more heartily than ever.

"I want something to eat first of all. I'm half starved," he told them.

"Sorry, younker, but we ain't got more'n enough for ourselves. It's a long ways to where we kin git more."

"But I am willing to pay you for it. I must have food right now,"

protested Tad.

"So must we."

"Who are you?" demanded Tad indignantly. "I didn't suppose there was a man mean enough to refuse a boy at least a piece of bread when that boy was starving."

"We're prospecting. I reckon we know our business best. Ye can't get any chuck out of this outfit."

"Then tell me where the Red Star Mine is. I've got to get there at once."

"She's nigh onto fifteen miles off thar--"

"Why, that's the direction I came from," exclaimed the lad.

"Sure. Ye must have dodged it. Did ye pa.s.s the Ruby Mounting?"

"I don't know. Where is it?" asked Tad Butler.

"You'd know if ye saw it once. It's a peak that looks red when the sun shines on it."

"No, I didn't pa.s.s the place. Tell me how I can get to the mining camp, even if you won't let me have anything to eat," begged the boy.

"My companions will starve before I can get back unless I get help to them soon."

"Got a compa.s.s?"

"Yes."

"Then lay yer course north by northwest three p'ints and ye'll hit the Red Star plumb in the eye--if ye don't miss it," and the miner laughed coa.r.s.ely. "Know anybody there?"